


this night is dripping down (stars are slipping)

by onewarmline



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Angst, Blood, Bloodplay (Noncon), Doki Doki Literature Club! Spoilers, Glitch Text, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onewarmline/pseuds/onewarmline
Summary: “What’s wrong, Dan?”Arin doesn't second-guess a Doki Doki Literature Club playthrough until it's much too late.Or is it?





	this night is dripping down (stars are slipping)

“Let us know in the comments if you want us to keep playing it. Oh my _god_.”

“What’s wrong, Dan?”

“Screw you! Alright, next time on Game Grumps! Fuck this music!” Dan was pushed all the way into one corner of the couch, both hands buried in his hair. “Oh my fucking god, dude, I’m going to blow up a thermonuclear device on your _chode_ , are you serious?”

Arin fluttered his eyelashes and smiled cherubically. “Daniel, whatever do you— _uff!”_

Dan vaulted across the couch with a pillow in hand and hit him square in the chest. “You are _a_ asshole,” he grumbled, “and you’re not even sorry about it.”

“I’m a little sorry?” Arin offered, wrestling the pillow out of Dan’s hands. He didn’t put up much of a fight. 

Dan was smiling, but it was tight at the corners, and guilt started sinking down on Arin. He had known about Sayori — Ross had told him that much — and he’d wondered at first if it was fair to surprise the most easily scared man alive with a twist like that. But once they’d gotten two, three, four hours in, they were having fun, and he just… forgot. Besides, Dan’s genuine reaction had been priceless, and he knew the fans would love it.

Still, Arin had to ask himself… was it worth it? _Really_ worth it, for the way Dan couldn’t stop spinning each of his rings, the way he couldn’t quite look Arin in the eye?

Shit, he was starting to feel like an asshole now. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, dude.” This time, Arin sounded sincere - he _was_ sincere.

“Yeah, thanks, dude, I’m glad that epiphany came to you _after_ I sat in silence for ten minutes doing breathing exercises.” Dan winced when Arin recoiled slightly, and he rolled out of Arin’s lap back onto the couch. “It’s okay. I mean – no it isn’t. But I’m not like, quitting. Except for tonight, to get some more of that pizza.”

“We can stop for tonight,” Arin agreed, leaning his head back until he could look up at the ceiling. They’d been recording all day, except for a couple of breaks, and they’d have to start Jingle Grumps tomorrow. “I’ll drive you home after you’re done eating.”

Dan was almost to the doorway and stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Are you sure? I mean, I drove in today.”

“Yeah, I. Yeah.” _It’s the least I could do_ , Arin thought, starting to feel the weight of something settle in his chest. “I don’t want you to like, get spooked by a raccoon and wreck or whatever.”

Dan huffed out a laugh, one quiet _heh_. “Alright, suit yourself. We can go in ten.”

Arin closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Ten minutes. That was fine.

He drifted off to the sound of Dan singing to himself, the words swallowed up into silence.

  


* * *

  


Arin blinked awake when he felt the couch sag next to him. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. He hadn’t actually meant to take a nap, and now he felt even more unsettled than before. 

He rolled his head to one side, looking at Dan at an angle. “Why didn’t you wake me up, ya silly bitch? How long have you been waiting?”

Dan didn’t seem to hear him. His hair was blocking his face, and he was rubbing a spot on his wrist with his thumb, while simultaneously trying to pull the sleeve of an oversized cable-knit sweater further up his arm.

Sweater? Dan hadn’t been wearing a swe **a᷈** te **r͕**. He’d shown up to the office in the same Rush shirt he’d been wearing for four days, or possibly four years. “Dan?”

Dan jerked in surprise, suddenly shoving his hands down into his lap. “Huh? Sorry. I spaced out.”

Arin sat up to look at Dan in the right orientation. Something felt weird. “Where’d you get that **sͦwe͕ͅat̴e̪r**? You—“

The room shook, vignetted around the edges. Arin couldn’t **r͓ĕm̲eͩm̜b** ᷃ **e̘r̗** **ᒭ** ≡Ꮻ **ᘺ** **⒅** **ݞځ** ∅

“I said, how long have you been waiting for me? You could have just kicked me in the shin or something.” Arin frowned, rubbing the side of his head. That nap was going to have him fucked up all night.

Dan laughed quietly, his usual melodic giggle, and Arin started to relax. Some of the tension had left Dan’s posture, although he couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting with his hands and sleeves. Still, it was a relief that Dan’s mood seemed to be lifting. Arin was still a little uneasy, but as long as Dan was okay, he’d get over himself in time.

“You looked comfortable,” Dan said simply, with a one shoulder shrug. “It was a long session, I thought you’d feel better after a power nap.”

Something like a headache was creeping into Arin’s consciousness. “I think we went too long today. I’ve got eye strain or some shit.”

“Turn your lights down where applicable,” Dan joked softly, scooting into the last inch of space between their thighs. Normally Dan was like cuddling next to a popsicle, but right now he felt like a furnace, a faint shimmer of sweat on his forehead.

“Hey, are you okay?” Arin’s heartbeat started to quicken, although he wasn’t sure why. He could almost hear a faint buzzing, like a hard drive in an old PC. None of their equipment made a noise like that.

Dan looked puzzled. He tilted his head to one side and his eyes were shiny, almost glazed. “Yeah, dude, I’m **f̢i̒n̼e̴**. You sure _I_ shouldn’t drive _you_ home?”

“No, I’m good.” Arin was not good. He was becoming very aware of it. Dan was breathing through his mouth, warm puffs between parted lips, and Arin couldn’t avert his gaze. Some part of his brain was trying to put together an Egobang joke, _ha ha, if the fans could only see us now_ , but Dan’s expression had rendered him stupid.

Dan huffed quietly. “Come on, Ar. Don’t bullshit me. **H̳a̒v** ᷾ **eͥṇ'̰t̓ y͑o͠ŭ dͥo͔n̈́e̡ t̪h** ᷿ **a᷅t͉ e̬n̈o͙uͅg̾h̶ t͏õd̖a̕y̟?᷈** ”

Arin stopped breathing midway as one of Dan’s large hands clamped down on his thigh, hard enough to hurt through the soft flannel of his sweatpants. It seemed like all the air was being siphoned out of the room and time slowed down as his pulse sped up even more, and he gasped slightly as his body tried to rescue him.

He didn't notice the faint copper handprint that had been left just above his knee.

Dan yanked his hand away like Arin burned him. He let his head hang, and his curls completely obscured his face again. “Jesus, Ar, what the fuck am I doing? I… I guess that game fucked me up after all.”

“Y-yeah.” Arin shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry. **W᷆e͈ s͌ḣo͕u̍l̹d̿n̹'ͩtͨ h̓a͏v̗e̪** **ந** ᠦ **Ḑ** **ᐋᗛ**

Arin shook his head to clear the cobwebs. A thread of pain was beginning to tie knots behind his eyes. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry. It was fucked up of me to trick you like that.”

“Hey, look on the bright side. The lovelies are going to go crazy for it.” Dan had started to rub absently at his wrist again, looking off into the middle distance. “It’s, like, Sheik but scary. **P̥ǫo̡r͙ dͣuͯm̼b͙ D̞a̜n̅ w̱i̩lͯl̢ b̈e͢ a᷆ f͂uͤc͂k̩i̳nͤg̡ j͆o᷅k̘e᷈,᷉ j᷆u͓sͤt͋ l̗i̚k᷆e᷄ y̶͊͠o̷u͙ w̉a̦n̋t̐e̛d̤.** ”

Arin pulled in on himself like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “Fuck, Dan, no, that’s— that’s not— I’d never—“

Dan blinked, stunned. “Wow, I’m… I’m really out of it.” He went to brush some of his hair behind his ear, and the sleeve of the sweater flopped all the way down to his elbow.

All Arin could see was red.

Dan’s forearm was covered in neat, hatching cuts. They were fresh, not deep, except for the one along the pad of his thumb. It was shorter than the others, more like a kitchen accident, and Dan had clearly made no attempt to put pressure on it. A trail of blood was flowing placidly down his arm.

“Jesus, Dan, what— what the _fuck_ —“ Arin managed to grab Dan’s bicep before he could pull away. Bile started to creep up the back of his throat. The buzzing in the room was starting to get louder. No, not in the room; it was inside Arin’s head, like entering a completely silent house from a busy street.

“Oh, I— I fucking cut myself with the pizza wheel, can you believe it?” Dan turned his hand palm up, watching the blood puddle and run like a waterfall. The place he’d been rubbing nervously on his wrist was smeared with it. Dan... had been _playing_ in it?

Arin had to swallow hard so he wouldn’t throw up, and the burn went directly up his nose and made his eyes water. “You— you didn’t do all this with a pizza wheel, Dan, **w̛h͓aͮt̏ t̛hͅeͣ f̢ůc̆k̚ įs᷉ wͨr͎o̢n̖gͣ w̱i̝t͏h̍ y̖o** ᷃ **ṵ**?”

Arin clamped his free hand over his mouth. That wasn’t his voice. Those weren’t his words.

This wasn’t right.

Dan turned his head, first left, then right, looking at his own arm as if he was unaware that it belonged to him. “The first one was an accident.” His voice was low, practically humming. “It hurt like a motherfucker, but it was… exhilarating.”

That… that was in Yuri’s secret poem, wasn’t it? Had Arin made them play a cursed game? Did the game get inside of Dan somehow?

This was Arin’s fault. _He_ had done this to Dan.

“Dan, look at me. It’s going to be okay.“ Arin’s vision was starting to swim with tears. “We’re— we’re going to go to the emergency room to get this cleaned up, and then I-I’ll **t͛a̓k͛e̤ ýŏu̮ h᷅o̵m̏e** ᷾ຄ **–** **ဂ** ᚬ **ഛ** **ᖔ** **ཟ** **ॸ**

**i̖f͕ I͛ c᷀o̊uͯl̨d͎ j͊u̠s͑t͔ d͖i͚s͠a͝p̔p̓e͔a᷇r͔**

**w᷊a͛k̚eͤ u̓p̈́ d̛u̩mͪm̎y̮**

Arin’s entire body convulsed and he dropped Dan’s arm, which landed in his lap with a soft wet _thud_. He forced himself to turn his head, and Dan was looking back at him. His eyes—

Were they black? Were they _gone_? Arin couldn’t tell. He started to push away toward the other end of the couch, but Dan followed, not allowing any space between them. “You don’t look so good, Ar.” 

_That’s easy for you to say_ , Arin thought hysterically, as Dan started to climb into his lap, heedless of the bloody mess.

“You know, just because it wasn’t _supposed_ to be a sexy game… doesn’t mean it _can’t_ be one.” Dan’s voice was deep in his chest, not like him at all, and he licked his bottom lip. His eyes seemed to blink in and out of reality, there and not, there and not. “ **I̊ w̺a̙sͭ g̩o͆i͊n** ᷿ **g͡ t̏o** ᷿ **jͥe͌rͭk̋ o̽f̭f̆ t̼o̱ ỵo͖u᷀ wͅhͮe͝n᷇ I̳ g͆o͓tͤ h̏o͉m̖e᷅,̴ b̋u̒t͊ sͮȉn͘c̉e͡ w** ᷂ **e͂'̑rͮe᷁ s̋tͨỉl̬l̉ h̓e͓r̀eͭ…** ”

Arin whimpered involuntarily as Dan dragged his bloody thumb across his cheek. “Dan, s-stop— oh god, please, Dan, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“ He pushed at Dan’s chest, trying to shove him away, but his arm may as well have been marshmallow for all the good it did.

Dan ran his other hand up Arin’s chest and around the back of his neck, yanking hard on his ponytail. The sharp pain made him choke, but no matter how he tried to twist away, Dan’s grip held his head still. All he could do was stare into Dan’s eyes that were no longer eyes, watch as he twitched and jerked like he was being manipulated by someone else’s hands.

“ **Ȩv̩ëȓy̕ d᷈ŕo᷀p᷊ o̐f͂ b͍lͦŏo̎d͋ īn̑ m̟eͨ i͕s̴ s᷄ĉr̀ĕa** ᷂ **m͔i̯n͗g̠ ỵo̥u̱ṙ n̎a͕m̳eͤ,̛ A͛r̍ỉn͖.̝** ”

There was a faint _snik_ sound that Arin barely registered, until he saw the open pocket knife catch the light in Dan’s hand. The silver handle had an intricate pattern of  **w̥a͡v᷊eͤs̫** **௴** ᱠ⋖ **ಌ** ⌕ַᆕ╤ **௴** ᱠ⋖ **ಌ**

 **t͌hͭe̍ bͥl̲aͅd̦e͟ i** ᷂ **s͊ t̾i̛n͐t͍e̙d̃ bͧḷu͈e̬** ᄮ **↑** **௮** **ප** **ᾘr**

Oh god, no, no _no_ —

“Dan, stop— _stop!_ ”

Everything stopped. It was all red now, like looking through a gel filter. Dan was frozen with the impossibly sharp knife turned toward himself, the point of the blade touching his chest. His eyes were clear again, whites fully exposed and pupils dilated in fear. He was looking at his own hand, slick and bloody, like it no longer belonged to him. His mouth was open and a scream seemed to be trapped on the other side of time.

Arin was frozen, too. He tried to reach out and snatch the knife away, but his arms didn’t move. His head didn’t move. He couldn’t blink, inhale, exhale. He was between himself, neither in or out. The buzzing was loud now, a semi truck barreling down at him with nowhere to turn. 

There was nothing to be done. 

Nothing.

Everything turned inside out, photo negative. Flashes of blood, Dan, no eyes, demon tongue, eyes, no face, white—

Black. 

It was all gone. Dan, his body, his breathing, the noise. 

Was it over? 

“Arin— Arin, _please_ — help— I can’t stop!”

Dan wailed desperately into the void, but Arin had no hands to reach out, no voice to reply.

“Arin! **H̽eͥl͂pͧ m̙e̔!̐** ”

Arin couldn’t.

Dan’s bloody scream reverberated around him, an endless echo, infinite octaves.

**w̫ͯ̌aͤ͌͘k̰͋᷅eͫ̈᷈**

**ú͕ͅp̟̘͆**

**d͈ͣ̂ủ̄ͥm̹̻̞mͩͦ̔y** ̜᷃̚

  
  
  


An open-handed slap jolted Arin awake. He gasped and pitched forward, nearly breaking his fall with his face on the floor, but two large hands braced each one of his shoulders.

“Arin! Jesus christ, dude, are you okay?”

Arin waited for his eyes to come into focus. His whole body was shaking with tremors, and he stared at his hands, clenching his fists just to make sure he still could. His cheek was stinging hot.

Dan. Dan was here, he was okay… 

Right? 

Arin swallowed hard and met Dan’s eyes.

Everything was normal. Well, that wasn’t entirely true — Dan was breathing hard and his face was red from exertion. He looked relieved, but only just. “Fuck, I’m sorry I hit you. You passed out while I was microwaving the leftover pizza, and you seemed comfortable, so I just waited and ate, and…”

Dan started to release Arin’s shoulders, but as soon as he did, Arin slumped to one side. Dan immediately pushed him back on the couch and sat down next to him. Arin was relieved to find that Dan’s leg was as cold as ice, even through his jeans.

“I… had a nightmare?” The room started to settle around Arin, and he took a deep breath, wincing as it shuddered like a sob. 

“I didn’t notice at first, since you always kind of toss and turn in your sleep.” Dan cleared his throat and looked away. “You, uh. You started thrashing and uh. Shouting my name. I tried yelling back to wake you up, and then I tried shaking you, but you were way under. It seemed really bad.”

That felt like the understatement of the century to Arin, but all he could do was nod. It wasn’t real. They’d played the game and he fell asleep and Dan ate pizza and it wasn’t real.

Wasn’t it?

Impulsively, Arin grabbed Dan by the wrist with one hand and pushed his jacket sleeve up with the other. Clean, unharmed, not even a pizza cutter mishap to be seen on Dan’s arm or hand. No blood.

“Ar?” 

Embarrassment punched Arin in the ribs, and he pulled his hand back. Jesus, how was he going to explain that?

To Arin’s surprise, Dan laced their fingers together, resting in the space between their laps. “You want to tell me about it?” 

“That fucking… game…” Arin felt like he had a concussion. He was grasping at words and they floated right by him. “I thought I woke up from my nap, and there was something wrong with you, like the game. You started to say weird things, do weird things, and everything I did seemed to make it worse…”

“Did… did I hurt you?” It was a difficult thing for Dan to say, evident in the way his mouth contorted around the words. “Is that why you were yelling at me to stop?”

“No,” Arin whispered, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look at Dan. “Not… not me.”

There was a beat of silence as Dan put it together. “Oh, _Ar_ —“

“Dan, I’m so fucking sorry, we shouldn’t have—“ Arin flinched at nothing, waiting for some force outside of him to take the words off his tongue, force him to say what it wanted to hear. “ _I_ shouldn’t have made you play that game, without telling you the truth. I’m such an asshole. Fuck, Dan, I’m _so_ sorry—” 

Dan laughed softly, and Arin’s mouth snapped shut. “Dude, seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? I’m going to spend about twelve hours being mad at you because you’re a dick, and twelve more being mad at Ross because _Ross_ , and then I’ll be over it. I'm alright. I promise” 

Dan squeezed Arin’s hand and Arin squeezed back, too hard. Dan didn’t say anything about it. “Also, I’m sleeping in the fetal position. But first _I’m_ driving _you_ home, and you’re going to go hug your wife and cats and meditate, okay?”

“Okay.” Arin’s mouth felt like cotton balls. The buzzing had been replaced by the tail of the echo of Dan's screaming, and it was like he was in two realities at once. “Dan, can you just sing to me?” It felt ridiculous to ask, almost childish, but he couldn't leave with that sound in his head.

Dan rubbed his thumb over Arin’s knuckles. His fingers were softer than Arin remembered. “What should I sing?”

Every word pushed the scream farther away. “Whatever you want. I just need— I need you to be okay.” Arin felt pathetic for phrasing it that way. Dan was obviously okay, he was right there, no blood, no knives. Even so...

Dan let go of Arin’s hand to wrap a long arm around his waist, pulling him close until they fit against each other. 

“ _I was 21 years when I wrote this song,_  
_I’m 22 now, but I won’t be for long,_  
_Time hurries on,_  
_And the leaves that are green turn to brown…”_

Just like that, the echo of the nightmare vanished like the smoke of a snuffed candle. Without thinking, Arin let his head rest on Dan’s shoulder, burrowing his face in the curls. Dan let his chin rest in the part of Arin’s hair, and the notes made them both vibrate at the same frequency.

“ _And they wither with the wind,_  
_And they crumble in your hand…”_

It swallowed Arin up in comfort, and he slept without a dream at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew. Long time fic writer, first time Grump fandom caller. As much as I loved "catharsis dot dan realizes he's been had dot mp3", I did feel a little badly that he seemed genuinely upset by episode 22. That said, all love to Arin. Sometimes you're mean to the ones you love. Obviously.
> 
> "Turn down your lights where applicable" is a Mystery Science Theater reference. Ask your grandparents.
> 
> Title taken from I'LL BE GONE - Linkin Park (listen to the a cappella version, if you never have)  
> Dan's lullaby is Paul Simon's Leaves That Are Green.
> 
> I'll be posting more fic (and art, because I seem to remember going to art school) at 0newarmline on Tumblr!


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